


Bite the Hand That Feeds

by Doceo_Percepto



Series: A Noncanon Version of Little Nightmares II [10]
Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: And super messy, Angst, Cannibalism, Gen, Imprisonment, Shock Collars, Six and Mono are adults, Six is selectively mute, This is super self-indulgent, Vivisection, because the story follows six, for science, hunger, im sorry mono is barely in this story, or at least older teens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: Six and Mono have been taking down corrupted adults in city after city for years.This time, they're expected.
Series: A Noncanon Version of Little Nightmares II [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652644
Comments: 18
Kudos: 98
Collections: Start Reading





	1. Chapter 1

This was a bad place. Her and Mono came to destroy everything in it, like they always did, but the people here knew they were coming. They knew about Six and Mono. Far more than they should. Six didn’t understand how or why. She did get a bad feeling in her gut when they approached the building - it was huge and steel and unfriendly. But Mono encouraged her. It’d just be like the other times. He wasn’t as in tune to instinct as she was. He had no idea, either, what lay in wait for them. She should have refused. But it seemed illogical, to refuse over just a gut feeling.

They entered through the air ducts (they now had to crawl through these, where once they could walk) and snuck past room after room. It was only when the ducts ended, and they were forced into the open spaces, that they were caught. But they were caught _fast_. Like they were expected - because they were. All of it had been planned. At first the room was empty and they thought they were in the clear. Then there were hands reaching from all corners, eyes glaring, wicked mouths grinning. They snatched her coat and her arms, too many of them holding her at once, and they grabbed Mono just the same. 

She snarled and snapped and kicked wildly, panic thudding hard in her heart as she watched Mono get dragged further away - he was fighting tooth and nail, too, but it wasn’t making any difference. It was in this chaos that they yanked down her hood, and something hard and metal banged against Six’s jaw. At first she didn’t realize what it was, until they continued to wrestle it down on her face. All she knew is she didn’t like it, didn’t like _them_ , and wanted nothing to do with this. She thrashed about, twisting her head one way and then the next, but thick fingers gripped her jaw hard and forced her to face forward. More hands buckled straps around her skull. When they pulled away, something was digging painfully into the bridge of her nose. Only when it was fixed in place did she properly realize what it was: _a_ _muzzle._

A yowl ripped from her throat and her fighting renewed afresh, but it didn’t matter. More metal was jammed against her throat. Chains rattled. Howling and squirming, she was dragged bodily down the hall, Mono’s own cries growing more and more distant, which only made her struggle harder. 

They’d known. They’d set this trap. This wasn’t fair!

They threw her into a cell with the same ease as if she was a little doll. She hit the floor hard, nearly gagged herself on the metal that jammed into her throat. They hadn’t stopped with just a muzzle. There was a _collar_ , too. She scrambled up from her hands and knees and dove at the door, but it slammed shut in her face. The lock clicked. Six bared her teeth at her captors and banged her fists against the bars. It did nothing. The few closest stepped away fast, twitchy. But then they laughed. 

She was left alone, pacing like a feral tigress, eyes glaring. 

* * *

Six hated this place. She hated the bars. She hated her muzzle and her collar. The collar was loose, at least, but after two or so days of yanking on the muzzle and struggling to get it off, it had rubbed the bridge of her nose raw. Now the rub mark stung with sweat and irritated her relentlessly. The collar was uncomfortable no matter how she slept - not that sleeping would be cozy anyway, on a hard concrete floor. Everything was awful and she was confined to a space that was only about ten paces wide. It was maddening. 

She didn’t know why the people here were keeping her alive. She didn’t know if they were keeping Mono alive or if they had killed him, and both thoughts sent her into rage after rage. There was nothing to trash in the cell, though, nothing at all but a bucket and a hard metal bench that she supposed was meant to be a bed. She shook and yanked at the bars but they never moved, and she struck the wall but all it did was hurt her hands. She had no source to vent her rage except the stupid muzzle, which of course only worsened the rub marks across her nose. 

Six was perpetually irate, and took to pacing the cell back and forth back and forth back and forth. 

Her mind tumbled over the same thoughts over and over again. How to escape? No way to escape. Were they keeping Mono? Had they killed him? She would kill them! She wanted to kill them! She would, the second they took this stupid muzzle off and let her out. Why did they want her? Why were they keeping her? 

In a fit of particularly bad despair, Six curled up in the corner and trembled, eyes wide above the metal mesh. Had they forgotten her? Was this how she was going to end? Starving? Alone? Trapped like an animal? Nobody came by to talk. Not even to check if she was still alive. 

Until one day someone did. Two people. 

Six was upon the bars instantly, teeth bared, a rumbling snarl pulled from her chest. She’d kill them, she’d _kill_ them! 

They both stood away from the bars, a safe enough distance that she couldn't reach them. 

“No improvement even after three days,” one said, frowning. 

Three days? Was that how long it had been?!

“You think she’d wear herself out,” the other sighed. 

“Guard says she’s been pacing a lot. Day and night,” the first said. 

Six clacked her teeth shut and glared furiously. They were discussing her like she wasn’t even there! Like she was some object! Some _thing_! And how did the guard know anything? Six hadn’t seen him! How could they watch her without her noticing?

“And still no signs of her hunger?”

That question had Six freezing on the spot. They _knew_. No, that was dumb. _Of course_ they knew. They’d muzzled her, and not Mono. So they had to know. But how? Why? It was the deepest violation, having that topic so casually thrown about like it wasn’t something so intrinsically her, so important or special. 

“No,” the second person replied. “We’ll just have to give it more time.”

The first tilted his head up and sourly gazed at Six, like she was a personal disappointment.

* * *

Six wasn’t doing good. Not good at all. 

Normally she paced a lot, because there was nothing else to do. Or fought with her stupid muzzle that never came off. By this point, it had dug through the skin, and there was a line of crusted blood over the bridge of her nose, which felt very sore and tender. She didn’t want to yank at it anymore. And she didn’t want to pace, either, not that she ever actually _wanted_ to.

A few hours ago her energy had started to wane and a very real and very intense fear burrowed deep in her belly. It had been too long since she last ate. Way too long. And there was no food here. Nothing, not even a scrap. Even if there were, the muzzle completely stopped her from eating. Nobody had come by except for once, when they’d discussed her in detached clinical tones and left. They might not even realize that she was getting hungry. They might not even care if they _did_ know, and that was worse. Would they let her starve? Hunger was agonizing, and every time Six had experienced it, she’d gotten relief from it. Now, caged up like this, forcefully restrained from even her basest instinct and need… 

Six deeply dreaded what might happen.

She crammed herself in the corner, arms wrapped around her body. Eyes darting back and forth over the bars. _Please. Someone. Anyone. I need food. I need food. Please_. She didn’t care what it was. Even if it was cold dead meat. Anything, she just wanted to eat. Needed to. Before things got bad. 

But the seconds ticked on into minutes into hours.

Shivering set in. Panting was quick to follow. Six’s eyes still flicked over the bars. Left. Right. Left. Right. Someone had to come. They might come from either side. The left or the right. So she had to watch. So she’d know the moment they arrived. So she wouldn't miss them. 

The shivers got worse. Six wrapped her arms around her stomach. No no no. She couldn’t let the hunger pangs start yet. Once they did, it was a countdown. It was already a countdown, though. And nobody was coming. Where were they? Why weren’t they coming? Why didn’t they bring food!? What if they never came? What if they came, and only laughed at her, and watched her waste away? Eaten by her own ravenous need? No no no

Six licked her teeth. Her saliva was thick and viscous. Panting loud in her ears. 

Nobody came. 

Nobody came. 

Her fingers clenched in her stomach. Her head bowed low, even though her eyes remained ever watchful. Food. She needed food. 

A shudder rocked through her. Drool trailed from her parted lips and clung to the wire mesh of the muzzle, before dripping to the ground. More and more strands of it. A low whine rose from her throat. Food. Food. There was no way to hunt. Nothing _to_ hunt. No way to escape. She was paralyzed into stillness. Starved into weakness. Food, please. 

Her tongue lathed along her teeth. They were so, so sharp but there was no warm fresh body to tear into. The whines grew louder. In another circumstance, she would have been horrified at the noises she was making. Desperate, needy kinds of noises. She never begged before. She just took what she wanted. Did as she pleased. Ate whatever crossed her path. 

Saliva continued to drip to the floor. Six screwed her eyes shut. Someone. Please. Please. 

_ I’ll do anything. _


	2. Chapter 2

“So _can_ she be trained?”

Those words came in as if from a dream. Six was sprawled on the floor, her stomach growling fiercely. Her limbs weak, her head foggy. There was a wet spot on the floor where her head lay; dizzily, she understood it came from her own saliva, and she’d be disgusted if she wasn’t so painfully starving. 

Her breath was coming fast and frantic, almost hyperventilating, and her whole body jerked with the breaths. Aside from this, she had no energy at all to lift her head, much less move. Madness swirled in her skull, crowding out all thoughts except the screeching call for food. 

“Well?” Someone shouted. Shouted… at her….? 

There was laughter. The clanging of bars. Her rolling eyes struggled to focus on the bars. People. There were people there, behind the bars. A fierce pang of hunger struck. Six cried out from the sheer agony of it, but had no energy to do more. Her cry turned into weak sobs. Her head was throbbing. Her gums were throbbing, too. Her teeth ached with how bad they needed to be buried in flesh. And there were people out there, meat, warm, fresh - 

The next pang forced her into a soundless scream. Her eyes screwed shut. She wanted to die. No more of this. Please. _Just kill me._

“Do you want that muzzle off?” Another taunting voice. 

“Can she survive much longer?” Someone else said, concern in their voice.

“Is it safe?” another, in a hushed tone. 

The lock clicked. Six’s breathing sped up further. Her eyes flashed open. Food. Food. Food. Someone was entering the cell. 

“Be careful-““We don’t know what she’s like in this state-“ “ _careful_!”

“It’s fine. She’s too weak.” A foot stepped into the cell. Six’s nails clenched over the concrete floor. Food food food foodfoodfood

The man neared, towering. “You’re too weak, aren’t you?” He taunted. He was so close. Closer, please. Please please please 

One step closer. Six gathered the last vestiges of energy, rocked unsteadily to a crouching position, and lunged, jaws parted. He caught the strap of her muzzle across her cheek and arrested the movement. 

“Nah-ah,” he said, infuriatingly condescending, and shook her head hard, sending pain stabbing down her neck. “Must be really desperate to think you can bite through that metal.”

Six whimpered, a defeated, awful noise that she regretted. But she couldn't help it, any more than she could help her abysmal situation.

“Six, isn’t it?” He said.

Her eyes rolled. Her body felt weirdly distant. Was this what dying was? It was hard to move her own limbs. 

He gave the muzzle a vicious shake again, which really only rattled her thoughts and see-sawed the bridge of the muzzle over her already raw and swollen flesh. But at least it dragged her briefly back to reality.

“Do you want to eat, Six?”

Tears pricked at her eyes. A hoarse whine emerged from her dry throat. 

“Do you want to eat?” He repeated, louder. 

With her waning energy, she nodded weakly.

“Say please.”

What? Was he serious? The seconds drew on as he waited expectantly. “Say please~” he repeated.

He _was_ serious. Six felt everything in her collapsing. She couldn’t. What he wanted she couldn't do. She was going to starve, she was going to die here.

“Then I guess you aren’t really hungry,” the man said viciously. “If you can’t even say please-“

A squeaky voice from further off, “a-are you sure, sir, this is the right way-“

“Shut up.”

He leaned down close. Smelled of sweat and flesh and blood. “Say. Please.”

One word. It was just one word. And then she could eat. That was all it would take. One word. Her lips pressed together. Her tongue touched the roof of her mouth. These were the approximate gestures people used to speak. Air rushed from her lips. Anxiety twisted her heart.

Repeatedly she opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Only air.

“Well?” The man demanded. 

Sobs wracked her frame. She hated this man. He was so, so close, but she couldn't bury her teeth in his flesh. And she couldn't say what he wanted. Hopelessness consumed her. 

“Sir, she _has_ to eat-“ that second voice called desperately, which Six was beginning to painfully sympathize with.

He leaned down so his own face was inches away from her muzzle. He grabbed both sides of her head with his hands. His green eyes were filled with rage. “Are you too stupid to understand me? Like some dumb animal?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears hot and awful on her face, tickling under her chin. Please please pleasepleaseplease 

Again and again she tried, but not once did she hear her own voice. She hadn’t in years. It wasn’t possible. It just - 

“Or are you stubborn?” He growled lowly, shaking her again. “Because you’re making a big fool out of me right now-“

“ _Sir_!”

“Fine!” He shoved her down; Six only barely caught herself before her face smacked into the floor. Then, she was being hauled backwards by the collar choking her throat. He secured the chain to the wall behind her. 

Only then did he remove the muzzle. The thing wasn’t even completely off before Six lunged for his fingers. Her collar arrested the movement, even as he jerked his hand away.

“Throw in one piece of meat,” the man barked, stepping deftly out of Six’s reach.

Sheer ravenous need crashed through her dizziness. Yes yes food - 

Every time she thought she had no energy at all left to spare, her hunger pushed her body intolerably further. She leaned towards the bars, towards the people gathered and their bodies pumping with blood. Her collar choked her but she hardly cared. Better to choke to death than starve. There was movement behind the bars, murmuring, but her vision was blurry and her hearing coming in and out. A ringing loud in her ears that raised in pitch and dwindled and raised again. 

Then something small was thrown into the cell. It landed with a splat beside Six; she was on it in an instant. The entire chunk of uncooked meat went down her throat in one single swallow, without her even chewing. Her tongue flattened to the concrete, lapping up the faintest of blood taste lingering, until there was nothing left but the taste of dust and her own saliva. 

_That wasn’t enough._ It took the edge off, but it wouldn't last, and she was still weak.

Six jerked her gaze up, murderous and demanding.

Some on the other side of the bars were returning worried looks. Green Eyes, who was just shutting and locking the cell bars, was smirking mockingly. 

“So she is just an animal,” he said. “Those can be trained.”

Six trembled with rage. She wasn’t an animal. She wasn’t a _thing_. She wasn’t _stupid_. Just hungry. Very, very hungry. Every inch of her wanted to tear this man limb from limb for making twisted, wrong assumptions about her, for imprisoning her, for starving her, for _everything._

“Should - should I toss another one?” This was the one with a squeaky voice. His whole demeanor was mouse-like. He was holding a bucket. Six had a very good guess what was in the bucket and she wanted it.

“No,” Green Eyes replied. He snatched the bucket from Mouse. “See how she likes being held on the verge of starvation. Maybe then she’ll cooperate.” With that, he marched off, and the others filed out after. Only Mouse hesitated, and looked back. He met her eyes for a fraction of a second. Then, as if frightened of having done so, he ducked his head and darted after the others. 

Six was left alone in the cold and the quiet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [savouren](https://savouren.tumblr.com/)! This story definitely would not exist without our tangent on muzzled Six, and I appreciate you reading over the chapters and providing ideas and advice.

Piercing white light seared through her eyelids. Six moaned, and tried to shift. Away. She wanted _away_ from the light…

Except her limbs didn’t respond to the command. Her eyes didn’t open. Nothing happened. 

_Move!_

Nothing.

Panic rising, Six tried again and again. No response. For so long she had trusted her own instincts and athleticism to claw her way out of every situation. So many times her body had saved her from death. And now, it was as if it was detached from her mind.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she felt _that_ , so she knew the rest of her must be somewhere out there, in the garishly bright void. Why wasn’t it responding? What was going on - what was this-?! Six struggled fiercely but uselessly against the force that kept her limp. She wanted to get up! She wanted to run! To flee! To feel! But how do you fight something when you can’t lift a finger? It all came down to her thoughts screaming in her skull, demanding her physical self cooperate, like a person trying to rip themselves from a horrible nightmare.

A voice warbled in as if through water. “… for all intents and purposes, human…”

It was then that she became aware of shadows flitting through the beaming light. Figures. _People_. People so rarely intended good for her.

“That is, until you get to -“

“The teeth, yeah.”

“And the gastrointestinal tract. I strongly doubt that will be human. A closer look should clear that up, and -“

Focusing on the voices made her dizzy, but she latched onto them with every last ounce of her will. Those voices intended her harm. She was certain of it. To avoid them, she needed to _wake_. **_UP_**.

With sheer force of will, one single finger twitched. Yes, progress! 

New sensations were beginning to bleed in. Something cold and hard dug unpleasantly into her spine. She was on… a table? It was so difficult to think, like her mind was fuzzy and out of focus. 

“The teeth first. I’ve been curious ever since I first heard about her-“

Some implication of their meaning struck her. They were talking about her like - like a subject. Like an _experiment_. That didn’t have a moment to sink in before fingers were jammed into her mouth. 

_That_ she felt. Distinctly. 

And _tasted_. 

Salty flesh. Thick fingers prying between her gums and cheek. Hunger surged fiercely and hotly. This was prey playing inside her mouth. Except she couldn’t do a thing. Anger and helplessness and hunger roiled. Her tongue was like a fat dead worm, pushed aside so that her teeth could better be examined and prodded, while the monsters inspecting her muttered and consulted with awe and curiosity. She HATED this. Hated hated hated hated - 

Her mind clawed at its walls. Screamed for her body to obey. 

Then - it did. Her torso jerked.

Fingers pulled from her mouth. “Was that-“ someone started.

“Is she waking up-?”

“I don’t know. The heart rate’s climbing-“

Six’s thoughts seethed. If she could just get control of herself… They didn’t have the muzzle on her now, and she wasn’t in the cell. If she could get up off this table - 

With gargantuan effort, she jerked again, only for fresh dismay to strike her. She wasn’t just laying on the table. She was _strapped_ to it. By ankle, by wrist, by throat. A low snarl began to rumble in her chest while her mind fiercely shed its paralyzing, numbing balm. Her teeth snapped together; she vehemently wished their fingers were still there to be crushed in her jaws. 

“Get the anesthesiologist in here, now!”

There was a scuffling, clattering, feet clapping on a linoleum floor, but Six paid that no mind, focusing every effort on thrashing and kicking.

“I don’t understand- she was supposed to be down for hours-“

“Move aside, move aside-“ 

A garbled growl ripped from her throat; she jerked hard enough to rattle the table. There was some satisfaction when the voices raised in alarm. The satisfaction didn’t last long.

Something was shoved on her face, its plastic edge biting awfully into the wound on the bridge of her nose. Although she tried to twist away, someone gripped her jaw and forced her head still, while others tightened the restraints around her body. 

Slowly, her struggles weakened. Eyes drooped. Rage stifled. 

Then nothing.

* * *

Splitting pain all along her abdomen. Pain _inside_ her. Six heard whimpers in her ears long before she realized they were hers. Something was really wrong with her. Fresh agony ripped through her belly at every smallest movement. Hisses seethed through her teeth. Her arms were wrapped gingerly around her midsection. It hurt too much to really touch. 

Her brain was still foggy; thoughts able to alight on nothing but the perpetual, unrelenting pain.

For a very, very long time, she lay there, motionless. She didn’t know what was wrong. She was too frightened to move, half-convinced that any small shift might rupture her stomach and send its contents spilling to the stone floor. Might kill her. 

Just breathe. That was all she could do. Slowly. Shallowly. In and out. Too deep and it split down her middle. 

She stayed half curled for so long that her muscles began to tremble and weaken, overtaxed. And when they did, it made the pain worse, but she couldn't force the position any longer. Her cheek pressed to the floor. The strap digging into her flesh, and the press of metal against the bridge of her nose served as a horrid statement that they’d put her muzzle back on. It was hard to care too much. 

Shivering, shaking, wracked with anguish, she gradually slipped into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

Waking again, the pain seemed no less. But she could focus better. 

She remembered laying, spread-eagled and vulnerable, on a metal table. She remembered the searing lights. And the voices… Speaking about her, not to her. Speaking as one would about a thing, not a person. Nausea rose. 

Six shuddered; her stomach burned with pain. 

They’d examined her. Her teeth, and…

Her eyes screwed shut. She’d been scared to look. In too much pain to look. But she had to know. Sitting up took several minutes, each step taken slow and riddled with pauses and shaky breaths to get the pain under control. Several times she feared she’d either throw up or pass out, but neither happened - yet. It was a disgusting, wretched feeling, having to take so long to do one simple task. But then she was sitting up. Her quavering fingers raised her shirt warily. 

The muzzle obscured part of her view, so she tilted her head to the side to better look at her own stomach. The sight doused her with horror. Hot tears pricked her eyes. A gaudy black line of stitches marked down her torso, from sternum to abdomen, pinching together skin in a puffy zipper-line fashion. The skin in its nearest vicinity was purplish with bruising. Six felt sick. 

They had intended on examining her. And it seems they had done that. Inside and out. 

Her eyes squeezed shut. How much worse was this going to get?


	4. Chapter 4

Always in the past there had been an _out_. 

Six had to be smart enough. Or quick enough. Or small enough. It didn’t matter which, the only thing that mattered was that she was _enough_ of something to get out of every terrible situation. She’d done a remarkable job, evading death and consumption and self-destruction. She’d fought what she could fight, and fled what she could flee. One way or another, she had earned her freedom. Again and again and again.

Until now. 

She couldn't see any way out. 

They threw scraps of meat through the bars. These pieces were small enough to poke through the mesh in the muzzle. They kept her always hungry and barely alive. There was no day, and no night. No way to mark the passage of time. Nobody to speak to. Nothing to do. Just one blank empty concrete cell, not much wider than her arms spread at her sides. She was alone. She knew Mono was out there, somewhere. Locked up in his own cell, or dead. Not knowing which was maddening. Everything was maddening. The bridge of her nose was rubbed completely raw, and its constant sting drove her crazy. The padding of her feet on the cold hard floor set her nerves on end. But so did the silence, if she sat completely still. 

For seemingly eons after the vivisection, her whole body hurt something awful, and her healing was agonizingly slow. It left a brutal scar from sternum to abdomen; a permanent mark of what they’d done. And for what reason? Why were they doing this? They seemed to want to study her, or to train her, and she didn’t know why they’d have any interest in either. 

She felt like she was caged in her mind, too. Clawing for stimulation, for human attention, for anything but this relentless monotony of her existence. 

There was no end in sight. No brilliant plan to break her out. Nothing nothing nothing but this purgatory stretching forever. 

She splintered her nails on the floor before resolving she couldn't dig her way out. She slept erratically. Petted her own skin in reassurance. Reminded herself that the way to survive this was to stay strong. 

But she was slipping. She leapt in excitement and rushed to the bars whenever Mouse appeared with the bucket. She’d learned to like Mouse, because he was not cruel like Green Eyes and because he fed her and most of all - because he was one of the only living people she ever saw. He never met her eyes. He threw the food and left. But for a time, he was there, and he was a human. He smelled of food and she craved to eat him, but her liking of him probably didn’t have to do with that. Probably. 

Green Eyes called her an animal. Called her dumb. 

Once upon a time, she’d used her cleverness and wit to wriggle out of many situations. Now, she was beginning to believe his accusations. Communicating with Mono had seemed so simple and straightforward. Communication with anyone else here was impossible or there was simply no opportunity for it. When Mouse came just for food and nothing else, an ugly sort of feeling started to take root. That there _was_ nothing else. 

She just needed food and water. That was all. 

But that wasn’t right, that wasn’t true and she knew it - she had to know it!

She was human, despite her appetite. She was a person. She had feelings, and dreams, and intelligence -

Over time, sleep and wake began to mix confusingly. Her dreams remained confined within the room, just like her. Limited. Weak. Helpless. 

Six was beginning to face the reality there was no escaping this place. This was her eternity, now. And that knowledge made panic rise in her chest. There was absolutely nothing to vent the panic on, though. Nothing to do.

She began to favor the back right corner of the cell. She’d curl up there, and stroke her own fingers through her hair, and rock softly, eyes fixed on the bars. Someone would come soon. Or not soon, but whenever they deemed it appropriate. Mouse would come and feed her. This was her favorite place to be. She paced less. Sat more. All while her heart hammered this battle against the inside of her ribs. Panicking and screaming that something must be done, this couldn’t continue. 

But it did. It continued. On and on and on. Relentlessly. 

She forgot what it was like, to experience day or night. She forgot what it was like to feel full. She forgot what it felt like, to be touched by another person. She was beginning to forget herself. There was just emptiness and hunger. Emptiness and hunger.

—— 

_Mouse_. 

He was back. 

Six weakly clambered to her feet, alert and hopeful. Mouse meant food. Mouse smelled like food, himself. More and more lately she’d thought about eating him. Not because she didn’t like him, but because she did like him. She used to want to eat Mono. Never this badly, though. Then again, she wasn’t usually this hungry. Mouse never came into her cell, though. Much as she wished he would. 

No, he never entered. He had a pattern. He avoided her eyes, intent as she was to meet his, threw the meat, and then left. Today the pattern changed. He had no bucket in his hand, which instantly had her bristling. Mouse’s job was to feed her. 

He twisted his hands together and still wouldn't look at her. 

“I… I don’t know if you can understand me,” he started. “I think maybe you can-“ he almost looked up but didn’t. “But I wanted to warn you. Mr. West is coming this afternoon. If…” he swallowed noticeably. Six watched his Adam’s apple bob and thought longingly of ripping out his throat. Still she focused hard on his words, because they were the only words spoken to her in a long time. “I just…” he seemed to struggle over what to say. “If you cooperate,” he at last managed, “then things can become easier for you.”

Wait, who was Mr. West? Was it Green Eyes? Someone else?

Mouse finally looked up, and winced at her stare. 

“Can… can you understand me?”

He was actually seeking a response. He was actually engaging with her. Six was so shocked she almost didn’t respond at all. Nobody had asked her a question, not for - not for- She didn’t know how long. He _wanted her to answer_. Six could have laughed in delirious relief. She nodded vehemently, yes yes, she could understand him! 

“Oh.” Mouse looked away. His expression was regretful, conflicted. “I… wasn’t sure how much you understood…”

Six’s hands wrapped around the bars as she pressed close to them; close to him. Would he say more? Would he ask more? 

He’d hung back when Green Eyes was roughly handler her, hadn’t he? He hadn’t liked any of it, and pleaded for Green Eyes to stop. He fed her, too. He really wasn’t so bad at all. (Closer now, his scent was more tempting. She wanted to eat him, so badly it was nearly painful). He was actually really wonderful. He was reaching out to her. She wanted him to say more. To her.

“Well-“ Mouse stepped away from the bars, letting out a nervous laugh. “I’m - I’m not really supposed to be here right now… s’pposed to be back on the second floor…”

Nonono. 

Six followed his movement. Don’t leave. Don’t go. Please. 

His look was a pained one. “Just - please, please listen to Mr. West. If you obey, they can do all kinds of things for you. They can give you a better cell, and um, more food, and-“ He fumbled into embarrassed silence, humiliated by promising slightly better captivity rather than actual freedom. 

Six’s attention was thoroughly snared. He felt bad for her. He felt guilty. He cared. He might be able to help her out. 

Her fingers slipped outside of the bars, and curled around the lock. Her eyes remained fixed on him. Come on. Please. Please. 

He shrunk in place. “I-I’m sorry,” Mouse uttered. “I can’t let you out -“ His eyes flicked to her muzzled mouth and she burned with anger. “Even if I wanted to; I don’t have the keys-“

A low growl rumbled up from her chest, only for him to step away sharply. No. She didn’t mean to frighten him. She stopped the noise instantly, and side-stepped to follow his movement. Please. Let me out. Or just talk to me. Just talk to me. 

“I… I’m sorry.” He was gone in the next instant. 


	5. Chapter 5

That whole night she thought about Mouse. She thought about how he had said something, and she had answered, and he had understood. It was a silly thing to latch on, but she clung to it ferociously. It had come so easy. Even if he hadn’t listened, even if he hadn’t let her go. They’d communicated. Communication was something she had been starving for, just as badly as she had been for food, and that one tiny hint of it brought surging back a great deal of her flagging will. 

Mouse reminded her of Mono. Sweet Mono. She hadn’t seen him since they’d taken her, either. Many many days had been spent raging over her helplessness and her fear for him. Those fears were brought in afresh, like wounds torn open again. Except this time a steely impatience lay beneath the fear. She had to know what had happened to him. Had to know if he was still here. If he wasn’t - if they had hurt them -

She wanted Mouse, she wanted Mono, and food, and freedom. She was not what Green Eyes said she was. 

When they had first thrown her in this cell, she had paced. And then, largely, she had sat in the corner and rocked. 

Now she did neither of those things. She sat quietly on the bench, hands folded. Very still. Focusing simply on breathing. Mouse said they would come. And he advised her to cooperate, in order to potentially get better living conditions. She would cooperate. Just not for that reason alone. Even though she felt like screaming. Even though every second had her skin twitching with impatience. Even though she felt like she couldn't sit for a moment. She waited. She’d cooperate. Fighting had done nothing. Any amount of feral furious energy had done nothing. So fine. Fine. Fine.

Cooperation. For now.

When they came, and they did come, it was with many men and many chains. Mouse was not among them. They entered her cell like they expected her to lunge. How badly she wanted to. How fresh they smelled, how _alive_. She swallowed her welling saliva. No lunging. No snapping her teeth. Nothing. They crowded her, and many hands were on her, with an abundance of caution, each person tense and waiting for her to attack. She loathed their touch but didn’t move. Chains were secured to her collar.

Then, like a tide, the people began to flow out of her cell, several clutching tightly to the chains like leashes. 

That was her cue, then. She stood quietly, and walked out, biting her tongue on the occasional yank to her throat. To make the illusion complete, she kept her head bowed and eyes downcast. It wasn’t hard to look miserable, for that’s what she was under the roiling pride and rage. 

The procession was a strange affair, all the amassed handlers seemingly confused by her attitude. One step in front of the other. Steady. All while she was a whirlwind inside.

They hauled her to a big auditorium, with some kind of obstacle course set up in the center. Green Eyes was already there, and he inquired about her evident cooperation. 

“Yeah, she came very quietly,” replied a bemused handler. 

Green Eyes’ eyes narrowed incrementally. “Did she.”

He looked her way and although it made her burn, she looked away. This was maddening. Feigning submission while hateful. Feigning composure while she was so hungry she wanted to scream. When he leaned in to cinch a new, black collar around her neck, she held very still, though his forearm was inches from her teeth. Without the muzzle in the way, she didn’t think she would have been able to resist. Not that savory flesh that so deserved to be torn apart. 

Patience. 

It was a colossal effort to fight through the haze of her hunger and refocus. He had put a new collar on… but why?

Green Eyes’ grin kept widening and he asked, “Do you know what this is? Do you know what it is?” like she was dumb.

She happened to not know. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Then he brought out a small black box, and pressed a button. The muscles along her throat seized, and a lick of fire raked across her collar bones and jaw. 

Then she did know. It was a shock collar. He’d put a shock collar on her.

Next, someone brought in a bucket. The same bucket Mouse always brought her food in, except it wasn’t Mouse holding it. He wasn’t anywhere in sight.

“Do you get it?” Green Eyes said. He liked to ask questions like she was incapable of intelligent thought. She got it, though. Crystal clear.

“Reward.” He pointed to the bucket. “Punishment.” He held up the remote. 

“Ready to begin?”

The end goal was obedience. It didn’t take long to figure that out, either. He put her through any number of stupid motions. Some of them only meant to be humiliating, like asking her to sit as if she were a dog. Some of them meant to assess her skills, she had to assume. Like navigating the obstacle course. Everyone stared while she did command after command, like some puppet going through the motions. Every moment she was overly conscious of her body while it performed normal tasks as if in a circus.

She despised it. But cooperation. Patience. That’s what she had chosen; that’s what she had to stick to. 

Anyway, resisting didn’t work well. When Green Eyes thought she wasn’t doing well enough, he’d give encouraging prompts. In the form of shocks. So she learned quickly, too, that the shock collar had different settings. And not all of them were as _gentle_ as the first. It took only one time of her hitting the floor and screaming before she decided to do everything post haste. 

He was true to his word, though. For every successful task, she was given tiny bits of meat to cram through the muzzle. Performing in front of so many eyes might have been difficult, but she could never regret eating. Could never deny a reward. 

With everything else so wrong and so messed up, eating was the one bliss. 

Her only qualm was the quantity and type of food given. Not human, if she had to guess. Certainly not alive. And not her captors. It was so very hard not to watch them while she pathetically poked in one little bit at a time. She thought about them, though. Fiercely. Longingly. Dreamed that it was their flesh she was consuming. She wished it so badly that she nearly shuddered from desire. It had been far, far too long since she’d gotten to eat properly.

She worked to not let a single sign of that hope onto her face. Only defeat, only despair; things that one day might earn their trust. And then, and _then…_

Soon they rewarded far more than punished. While her stomach was never full, neither was it achingly empty. And she stupidly, naively, thought they’d throw her back in her cell to try again another day. 

Instead Green Eyes stepped closer. “One last task,” he said, and his face was ugly in its meanness. “One last task, and you can go back to your cell. All you have to do is say _please_.”

All this time she had stayed obedient. Now, her fury ignited afresh. It took everything not to snarl at him, and even then her glare was hot as irons. 

That wasn’t fair.

He _knew_ it wasn’t fair. 

She had followed every command according to his wishes. Done everything he asked. And now he asked something that he knew she could not do. She wasn’t going to try now and humiliate herself, only to fail. Her lips remained pressed shut. 

He smiled. “You aren’t the sort to break so easily. Don’t pretend like you are.”

That wasn’t FAIR. Squealing, she stomped her foot and jerked against her chains. Broken or not, she couldn’t talk! He was asking the impossible!

But that little bit of rebellion was enough to garner his displeasure.

The electric charge swamped her head and reached her toes; by the time she was aware of things again, she was on the floor, gazing up at his foul smile. “We can’t have that defiance,” he said. 

She understood. He knew she couldn’t do what he wanted. He just wanted to watch her try, over and over and over again until he was sure there was no pride left.

The handlers hauled her back up, and returned her to the cell. 


	6. Chapter 6

She practiced. 

She sat quietly in her cell, and practiced - mouth making the movements it should. Tongue touching the roof of her mouth. Air expelling. 

_Mono_ , she tried to say. What better word to practice on?

Except it had been a long, long time since she had ever spoken. A long time since she had heard her voice. Speaking had never got her anywhere good before. But now, now maybe it could.

“Mono,” she managed to whisper, so faint that it barely reached her own ears. Her voice was ugly, the syllables flat and wrong. Too unused. Too ill-practiced. Didn’t matter.

Mono, Mono. She could say it. “Please.” Soft as a will o wisp. “Please.”

She could say it, in the stillness and solitude of her cell. “Please.”

“Well?” Green Eyes demanded, at the end of her next training session. “Say please.”

She had said it a dozen times to herself in the dark. It seemed so easy, in principle, to repeat it again now. Her body went through the motions. Tongue lips teeth air. But she couldn't force out a single sound. 

Electric shock. Again. Again. Again.

She had hoped that practicing in her cell might ready her for speaking in front of Green Eyes. That if she mastered just a few words, she could repeat them in front of him, and be spared further humiliation. Maybe even earn his trust.

“Well?”

Electric shock.

The more pressure she put on talking, the harder it was. It had always been that way. 

“Well?”

Electric shock.

He got what he wanted. Her groveling and whimpering and fighting to do one simple thing that she just couldn't do. He got that, at least. Except he wanted her spirit to break, too. That wasn’t going to be so easy. 

See, she’d already bent. She’d already broken. Whether he realized that or not. She knew a helplessness now that she had never known before. Because she _had_ fought. She _had_ raged. She had screamed, and clawed, and bitten. She had applied her mind to the task, too; calculating weaknesses, assessing every escape plan, considering manipulation and deception. 

At the end of the day, she was still locked in a lightless soulless cage. Good behavior was just as apt to be rewarded with electric shock as bad behavior. She couldn’t speak, though Green Eyes demanded it again and again. 

No matter what she did, she was punished. No matter what she did, she wouldn't be free. 

Helplessness sunk in. And that… that was impossible to describe. Like a creature tangled in a trap and laying for hours upon hours while starvation crept in and the howls of wolves came closer and closer. It was a consuming sensation impossible to truly understand until one has personally experienced it. And it devoured Six. 

So they shocked her. 

They yelled at her. 

They fed her tiny scraps, and called her names. 

None of those things she could stop. What a strange relief it was, to know there really was nothing she could do. If pain and humiliation were inevitable, then it made all her actions inconsequential. That was the funny thing about utter helplessness: the serenity that came along with it. This warm numb calm. Somewhere deep down, there was still rage, but it was buried beneath so many thick layers of cotton and fluff and muted nothingness, that she could barely remember it was there at all. 

There was power in that. 

It didn’t sound like it, but there was. Or at least it benefited her to believe so. 

Because deep down hidden alongside that rage, Six _knew_ she didn’t belong tangled in wires and laying prone for another beast’s teeth. She knew what was being done to her was wrong. And she had the detachment now not to thrash, not to fight, not to be humiliated or disgusted by the sheer evil of what they were doing to her. She had the detachment to obey, and for the most part, what they did couldn't touch her. Not really. Part of her couldn't be touched by anything anymore.

Let them hurt her. Let them demand she speak. Let her break down crying every time she tried, pathetically, and failed. Let her claw at her own skin in the cell, and crave the blood that welled under her fingertips, because at least it was something in the monotony of her caged existence. That was okay. That was part of it. Maybe Green Eyes thought he was breaking her spirit. Maybe he was, actually. She didn’t really know. All of these things seemed to be happening externally, distantly, behind some kind of fog. 

Internally…. Internally, she felt powerful. It didn’t make sense. She was the furthest thing from powerful. She had no say in any action in her life anymore. 

But she clung desperately to the idea. Like a conviction that she had some clever foolproof plan to get out, she simply didn’t know the details and never would. Like she was waiting for the exact moment to tear apart every single person that had hurt her, while never planning to actually do so because such a thing was impossible.

She needed something. _Something_. Hunger, gratefully, was left to remind her. It might be a glaring weakness, the exact reason they started to bring her to her knees, but it was also a strength. A companion. A friend. Something always with her, something nobody could take away. The very thing that had been with her in her hardest times. It would always be with her.

She retreated. Her thoughts roved in circles. Hungry. Constantly.

If nothing else, her training ensured she had a more steady supply of food. 

Then they put her through her first real trial run. 

A labyrinth; inside it, a single soulless person. “All you have to do is get in and kill them, then come back out.” With a wicked grin, “You could call it fetch, hm, Six?”

Green Eyes brought a dozen men and women to watch, and they were all armed, eyes on her. It wasn’t him but someone else that reached around her head and unbuckled the strap. 

The muzzle slid off her face; its departure tore open a scab across the bridge of her nose. She didn’t care, not one bit. Because suddenly it was gone. For the first time in… in… far too long.

Her fingers flew up to stroke her cheeks. The relief was a warmth that coursed through her whole body. Nothing to stop her caressing bare skin. Emptiness where her mind expected her to strike metal, and the motion to be aborted. She hadn’t had it off in… weeks? Months?

There was a ring where the muzzle had always sat against her skin, a ring that throbbed with phantom sensation, trying to convince her over and over that the thing wasn’t really off. But as she petted her own face, she proved it wrong over and over again.

“Are you done?”

Six hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes. She opened them at the words, and narrowed her eyes. Hunger lurched in her stomach. Green Eyes was there, no bars to separate him from her. No muzzle to stop her. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled.

She was thinking about it. Headily. Heavily. Her fingers trailed over the seam of her lips. Oh, what it would be like, to part them, and sink fangs in flesh. 

_“I’m warning you._ ”

A lot of guns were pointed at her. Six didn’t make a single move towards him. But oh, she wanted to. She wanted him dead.

He pointed to her destination. She went. 

Navigating the vents was nothing. Finding the target was nothing. Not with the prospect of fresh meat. Six didn’t care who the woman was that they had left tied up and whimpering. All she cared about was eating. Taking her fill. Sating something far too long left wanting. 

When she came back out, sleepy and deliriously happy with her meal, she let them put the muzzle back on without the slightest complaint. And back to her cell. 


End file.
